


SubTEXT

by DarkwingSnark



Category: Looney Tunes | Merrie Melodies
Genre: M/M, Romantic Comedy, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:53:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkwingSnark/pseuds/DarkwingSnark
Summary: PROMPT: Daffy demands Foghorn's attention while working. ( The Looney Tunes Show )





	SubTEXT

If there was one thing to know about Daffy Duck it was this: he did things on his own terms. When he was active it was because he CHOSE to be active– his own laziness be damned. And when he chose to sit around and do nothing, to just sit there and be still as he sat alone in his lazyboy chair, taking in the silence of his homely suburban kingdom… well, that too was on his terms. Daffy almost had pride in the way the mallard knew that he, and he alone, was in control of his own little world; and it was on the rare occasion that he found himself doing anything he didn’t want to do. **  
**

But those rare occasions had a nasty habit of popping up when Daffy least wanted them.

Daffy Duck found himself bored- with a capital **B.O.R.D**. As he failed balancing a pen at the end of his bill for the hundredth time, he couldn’t help but slouch on the table in defeat as he glared sideways daggers at the one responsible for his current condition. Foghorn Leghorn, the richest rooster in the world with the billions of dollars to prove it, was busy sitting in on one of his weekly business meetings. It had been him, the devil in feathers himself, that had wrought this state of boredom onto the innocent duck. It was HIM that had swayed Daffy out of his home and into a room full of nerds in suits, going over figures and who knew what else, with promises of a good meal afterwards.

He could still hear Foghorn’s last words ringing to him:

“ _It’ll, I say, it’ll only be an hour, son. Promise. Think ya can handle waitin’ it out with an old rooster as he counts his unhatched chickens?_ ”

Daffy quickly looked around to find the wallclock in the room. 3:40 pm– still another whole twenty minutes left! The mallard groaned in frustrations as he whacked his face onto the table, completely ignored by the others as they carried on their business. Maybe if he did it a few more times he would knock himself out and save the little sanity he had left.

It was five minutes ( _and a long speech about potential growth in Foghorn’s technical industry from a lady with the world’s most monotoned voice_ ) later, that Daffy couldn’t take it any longer. Rummaging around his feathers, it took him only a moment before he found his phone and with a glare he furiously typed away.

Daffy wasn’t the least bit satisfied until he heard the knowing vibration of another phone, and made it a point not to look at the man next to him as Foghorn sat up straighter in his seat from surprise and pulled out his device from his suit pocket. Daffy couldn’t see his expression from the corner of his eye, but it was another good minute before he was rewarded with a response.

Daffy must have been causing a bit of a disturbance, for he looked away from his phone to glare at Carol on the other side of the rooster as she made a point to silence him. OH, little miss blonde did NOT just shush him! She thought he was being noisy NOW, just typing and grumbling at his phone, she better watch her attitude before he decided to REALLY start causing trouble! Daffy wasn’t afraid to totally sabotage the remaining minutes just out of pure spite alone, after all.

Luckily for all in the room it seemed it wouldn’t have to come to that, as the mallard’s attention went straight back to his phone as new messages came in.

‘Need the motivation to go on?’ Before Daffy could even BEGIN to wonder what the crazed rooster was going on about, he yipped in surprise as Foghorn rested his arm around his seat– his hand lightly touching Daffy’s back through the opening in the chair. Fingers scratched the arch of his back, smooth circles rubbing an unwanted calmness through him. Daffy had to snap himself back into attention after catching himself melting into the touch. The mallard gave a dirty look at the man next to him, who was busy playing with his phone still. What did the guy think Daffy was? Some pet he could just touch when he pleased? …Huh, the duck wondered if he could actually get PAID to be some crazed rich guy’s plaything. Would certainly get Bugs off his back about finding another job, anyhow.

His inquiries on that would have to wait for later, as Foghorn’s message he had been typing away at had finally come through.

Though in text form, there was a noticeable lilt in the way ‘remember that’ came across. Raising a brow, the middle aged duck looked over at the man next to him in confusion. What was he going on about? Daffy could think of like a billion instances where things went south just from being in the same room as the rooster. He was about to voice this, too, when the duck finally noticed that Foghorn was looking back at him. Eyes half lidded, beak turned up into a smirk– all arguments were lost as Daffy got lost in the rooster’s award winning beam. That look somehow made Foghorn’s hand on the mallard back ignite in a warmth previously not there, and an unsuspecting shiver up Daffy’s spine followed it.

Daffy looked away in a huff, no longer able to keep the contact. With his bill in the air with the remaining dignity he had left, the duck typed away his haughty reply.

The amused chuckle that escaped Foghorn as he read the threat almost made the remaining minutes tolerable… well, _almost,_ anyway.

 


End file.
